Gangsters and Psychos
by Avee173
Summary: When a new corporation, XXY Chrome, takes over Arkham Asylum in hopes to "restore the criminally insane" Harley and Ivy find themselves in the center of its trouble. Most of the villains of Gotham are locked up for good, and those who are left don't know what to do. Will XXY Chrome be the key to restoring Gotham City and its criminals?
1. Root of Reality

**Author's Note: Hello, this is the first chapter of a story that I wrote on a whim before winter break, figuring I could write and keep up a story. I don't know if I'm going to continue it. Also, the story will be switching point of views quite often. It will switch from Harley's first-person point of view to Ivy's. During flashbacks, it will be in the third person point of view because I want to grasp how the both of them feel without having to write the flashback through both of their perspectives. Okay, without further ado, enjoy! :)**

. . .

I came home to Mr. J's hideout after another unsuccessful attempt at capturing Batsy. We were so close this time, like every other time. If Puddin' and I spent another second out in the open streets of Gotham, we would've both ended up back in Arkham Asylum, not that it was hard to escape from the joint. Puddin' got so caught up that he'd forgotten to bring me home, so I walked back to the apartment, alone in the rain, silly him.

I closed the door behind me and took off my jester costume, setting it in the laundry hamper to be washed later. I grabbed a towel and began preparing for a shower. I glanced at the restroom mirror. My face was caked with white foundation that had been smeared by the rain. I peeled my adhesive mask off of my face, revealing my true skin tone along with part of a bruise from a couple days ago that hadn't been covered by my make-up.

Harley Quinn. This was me.

It didn't take long for me to shower. I had to be quick and ready if Puddin' needed me for another one of his schemes. I stepped out onto the floor, changing into black shorts and a white tee-shirt.

I passed by the mirror and paused. I usually try to avoid mirrors when I looked like this because I was afraid of what would stare back at me. This time, I forced myself to look. What stared back at me was a drastic difference from what I saw when I first came in. I looked... normal. It had been a while since I looked this normal, even longer since I looked like _Harleen._

Harleen, the girl I once was. The person blissfully unaware of what was to become of her future. At certain times, I wished I could've done things differently. If it wasn't for the lack of a railing above that vat of toxic chemicals, I would've been a completely different person. It's funny how something as simple as how a walkway was built could have drastically changed my life, for the better or worse, I wasn't so sure of.

There were plenty of reasons why my life was worse after that day: I had no family, I had turned into a wanted criminal, a thief, a... murderer. I had also gotten myself tangled up with the epitome what everybody fears as an impotent person, who was simultaneously the man of my insane demented dreams.

The Joker.

He beat me, and tortured me, and made me wish I could be better for him because he deserved so much better than me. So I struggled to be the person he needed me to be, but that person was too far out of my reach, and he hated me for that.

There was only one reason why my life was better that day. The reason seemed to cancel out the harshness and cruelties of any other reason that might convince me why my life was worse because that reason was his smile.

Some called it the smirk of psychosis, others called it the grin of genocide, but to me, it was always the smile of sincerity, because I knew underneath his insanity that he was just a poor helpless man that was torn apart by Batman. My Puddin' was innocent. He was a scapegoat used to blame the horrors of the world upon. I knew I could help him, I just needed to get past the walls he used to block everyone out.

I looked at the bruise on my face, bigger now that there was no make-up covering it. It was his defense mechanism. He was never taught how to be gentle. I could make him gentle. When he smiled at me, not his Joker Smile, but a true and genuine smile, that was him trying to break through and see the light, I was sure of it.

My eyes trailed from the bruise on to themselves, blue and wide. They had a look of uncertainty in them that seemed to contradict everything I was telling myself. Surely I had believed my thoughts, right? I abruptly looked away, not wanting to watch myself cry.

I let my tears fall down my face in silence. I didn't know what they were for. I never knew what they were for. There were too many things in my life that could just as easily bring tears to my eyes as the next.

I walked out of the bathroom, wiping away my tears. I took a deep breath as I looked around for Puddin'. He should've been back already. Maybe he was lookin' for me. I walked over to the rotary phone, spinning and pressing numbers, then picking up the phone. Surprisingly, he picked up after one ring.

"Puddin' I-"

"Shut up," he interrupted.

I patiently waited a minute or so. I wanted to know where he was, but if I asked, I knew he'd be mad. After a couple more seconds I heard shuffling from the other end.

"I'm capturing Batman again. He'd never think I'd try two times the same night, so I have the element of surprise" Mr. J whispered.

"Aw, Puddin', why didn't cha tell me? I coulda-"

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to come! You would've ruined everything, just like you always do!" He exclaimed.

The phone call cut off. I looked around, sad at myself. Of course, he wouldn't want me around, I always ruined everything. I felt tears welling up in my eyes again. I needed to find something to distract myself from the phone call. I couldn't be alone with my thoughts.

I glanced towards the t.v. and grabbed the remote sitting next to the phone. I took a few short steps toward the couch, trying to find a fairly comfortable spot on it that didn't have springs poking out of it. After a couple minutes of fumbling, I gave up, deciding to sit cross-legged on the floor.

The news was on. Boring news, well, except when they're talking about me and Mistah J. They weren't, so I changed it to Disney channel, where they were showing the Lion King. I turned the t.v. off. Just thinking about the scene where Simba finds Mufasa is heartbreaking, and I wasn't in the mood to cry again.

My stomach growled. I needed some food.

I got up and walked to the kitchen, opening the mini-fridge. It was basically empty aside from poisonous concoctions that needed to be kept cold and the occasional insect who met an untimely freezing demise.

I turned toward the cupboards. They had a few scattered containers of empty frosting. I couldn't see what was on the top shelf though. I climbed onto the counter, peeling my hand off of the sticky remnants of soda I had spilled a few weeks ago.

"Darn it," I muttered, jumping down from the counter.

Nothing was on the top shelves. I made a mental note to steal a few groceries from the store later as I began pacing back and forth, wondering what to do. After accidentally stepping on an empty carton of orange juice, an idea popped into my head. I'd stop by Poison Ivy's place for a few hours and convince her to cook me some dinner.

I put on socks and some converses and headed out the door.

While walking, I took a look at the beautiful scenery. Ivy would've loved it. The beautiful flowers, the sunshine, and the smell of freshly cut grass. Well, probably not the last one, Ivy hated that people took it upon their own will to murder innocent grass that did no harm.

The scent was coming from a guy mowing his lawn. I giggled to myself, imagining what she would do to that guy. She would've yelled some obscure fact about grass as she used her powers to let the grass grow back. I looked up as the guy waved at me. I was surprised before I realized that I looked normal. I waved back, turning a street corner.

I crossed the road, walking farther into the heart of Gotham. It was a bummer that Ivy's secret hideout was right in the center of Gotham, where she could easily be caught.

"No one would ever suspect it," she once said to me.

She was right, for the time being. Before Batman would inevitably track her down and unfortunately put her in Arkham. I didn't want to think about those thoughts. So I took a look at the sky, imagining a variety of shapes the clouds were. One looked like a puppy sticking his head out of a box, which was utterly adorable in my opinion. Another looked like a monster truck, but if you looked at it upside down, it looked like a koala on a tree.

Before I knew it, I was there. The old abandoned warehouse. I walked in through its front doors as their resisting creaks echoed through the large building.

" _Echo,_ " I yelled, hearing my voice as it repeated several times back at me, giggling to myself.

I headed toward the far corner of the warehouse, weaving my way in and out of the purposeful maze of long-forgotten crates and boxes. After I found my way to the ninety-degree spider-webbed corner, I pushed a certain point along it as it popped open.

I walked into the cavity in the wall, placing the corner piece back into place. About fifteen feet in, I came up to a steel door. After I complained about it hurting to knock on the cold metal with my hands, Ivy installed a doorbell. I pressed it and waited.

I guess Red still isn't used to seeing me... not battered, because when she opened the door, an enormous smile instantly spread across her face as she hugged me, inviting me in.

I noticed all the plants in sight started sprouting tiny pink flowers. I don't think that's ever happened before. I know Ivy's plants wilt when she's tired, and they grow thorns when she's angry, but I've never seen them grow even more flowers. I guess that happens when she's happy.

. . .

I heard the sound of the doorbell. Nobody ever came to my hideout except Harley, but it was five twenty-three, way earlier than the time she usually comes. I walked over toward the door, already prepared to comfort Harley for however long she needs it.

I opened the door. Harley was dressed in civilian clothes, and she had no tear streaks running down her face. She looked... happy. I was amazed, more than amazed. I felt a smile spread across my face as I pulled her into a tight hug, to which she didn't flinch.

My body pulsed with emotion that was too strong to hold in, so I distributed my emotions to my plants, letting them grow blossoms of flowers. She was okay. Harley was okay! For once in my life, she didn't come to me bruised and beaten by the hands of the Joker.

But Harley never came without a scratch, she was too in love with the Joker to ever leave his side until he beat her away. My eyebrows furrowed as I released her from my hug, pulling her inside, something was up.

"Why are you here?" I tried to hide the concern in my voice.

"What? I can't come to my favorite red-headed plant lady without a reason?" Harley joked.

"I don't suppose" I continued, not ready to let go of my suspicion.

"Well, you're right. 'Cuz my puddin' left me out of his plan to capture B-man, and I have nothing to do. I was so bored, and then I got hungry and thought of the amazing food you cook." She explained.

"Watch some t.v." I proposed turning it on to Gotham City News. "I'll fix you something,"

I walked over to the island counter in the kitchen, setting two glass bowls on it. I grabbed a bag of pre-made salad from my fridge and poured some into both bowls. A news alert caught my attention. I glanced up at the t.v. wondering what it would be about.

" _The Elizabeth_ _Arkham_ _Asylum for the Criminally Insane has gone bankrupt after being sued for negligence of its patients. Out of all people admitted into the_ _Arkham_ _Asylum, only five percent have ever made a "full recovery". Out of those five percent, twenty percent were wrongfully deemed sane, thus letting psychopaths and murderers roam the streets of Gotham. Studies found that the asylum does little to try and cure patients, and acts as more of a jailhouse for psychotic criminals. A new corporation under the name of_ _XXY_ _Chrome has taken notice of this, and has filed for new management of the asylum, and promises to do the best they can to cure their patients and allow them to live in society as normal citizens._ _"_

I couldn't believe it. Arkham Asylum had grown on me after the dozens of times I was in and out of that place.

I looked over at Harley. Her jaw hung open in captivation.

"I'm here with Jon Geraighty, the head of the organization. Jon, what do you plan to do to cure the patients that have been admitted into your corporation?" the anchorwoman questioned.

"Well, if you must know, we'll start by evacuating Arkham city, as it's the last thing you'd do to help the criminally insane. Next, we'd diagnose our patients and assign them psychiatric treatment methods specifically created to fit their needs along with therapy and strict medication. After that, they are allowed visitation privileges from family and friends as a therapeutic technique, and after a specialist has deemed the patient sane, they will finally be released into society." John stated confidently.

"And how thorough is this treatment" the anchorwoman continued.

"In the seventy years since XXY Chrome was founded, every recorded patient we treated was cured. I expect nothing less from the patients of Gotham City."

I cringed at the sentence. _Gotham_ _City_ rolled off of his tongue too easily. Arkham had a much better ring to it. I reverted my attention back to the salads. I pulled orange juice out of the fridge, pouring some into a plastic cup I bought for her after one too many of my wine glasses were broken. I gave Harley her salad and juice as I took a seat on my couch.

"Aw Ivy. You know I don't like _healthy_ food." Harley whined.

"Beggars can't be choosers," I replied with a smirk.

With a huff, Harley crossed her arms, turning back toward the television. She sat on her knees a foot away from the t.v. screen, if that.

"Don't sit so close to the t.v. You'll ruin you're eyes and will have to wear glasses," gosh, I felt like my mother, which wasn't a good thing.

I instantly realized that Harley already needed glasses, which, to my dismay, would give her a chance to haughtily correct my mistake.

"Fuck," I muttered to myself, already hearing the words before they rolled off of Harley's tongue.

She giggled, "I already need glasses, Red," she stated in a childish tone, sticking her tongue out.

I tried to salvage what little authority I had left, to no avail.

"Y-yeah, but you still d-don't w-w- gosh, fuck me," I exclaimed.

"Anytime, Red," Harley winked at me then turned back toward the t.v.

I felt my cheeks flush, instantly knowing I was blushing. Luckily, Harley hadn't seen. It was just a joke, Ivy. Just. A. Joke.

I focused my attention back to the t.v, trying to forget what just happened.

"And what makes you think these patients will react the same as the typical patient of XXY Chrome?" the anchorwoman asked.

"I can't say for sure that they will. XXY Chrome hasn't worked with as many criminally insane patients as there are in Gotham City. As a precaution, XXY Chrome has spent years prior to this, investing millions of dollars into the research of criminal psychology to help us better understand how to help them." John answered as if it was rehearsed.

"And how are you going to go about curing Gotham's most infamous villain, the Joker?"

"We've heard a lot about him. His diagnosis is being kept under wraps, I'm not authorized to tell you anything about any of our patients."

"Well, you'll never find him. He's-" Harley started screaming at the t.v. before she was cut off.

"Although I must say, we already have the Joker in our custody. All day we've been catching villains with the assistance of Batman and Robin. We're like the animal control of Gotham, except we have better security." Jon smiled a smug little smile toward the camera.

"Is there anyone else you still haven't caught?"

"Yeah, a few, including Poison Ivy, the Riddler, Harley Quinn, Twoface, Catwoman, The Penguin..."

I looked over to Harley.

"T-they can't do this. W-we need to find Kitty. S-she can't go there, none of us can," Harley stated.

"Okay. I'll call her right now." I reached for my burner phone but paused.

The beep of an electronic device was heard from the t.v.

"Huh," Dr. Geraighty said, feigning surprise, with an underlying hint of cockiness.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's come up?"

"We've just caught two more criminals. The Scarecrow and Catwoman. That brings the list down to nine."

Harley's breath hitched, and I turned the t.v. off before she could start bawling.


	2. Delusions

I felt angry. I tried to stand on my feet, but I couldn't. I had no idea whether it was the boiling of my blood, or the adrenaline rushing through my veins that cause the ringing in my ears. They couldn't just take us like we were an infestation that needed to be vanquished. I wouldn't stand for it.

"No. No! They're taking everybody. They've taken my Puddin'. I can't live without my Puddin'," Harley exclaimed.

I have no idea why or how Harley had even grown accustomed to the Joker in the first place. It was clear he wasn't a boyfriend anyone in their right mind would want to have. Then again, Harley wasn't in her right mind, at least, not after she was pushed into a vat of chemicals by the Joker.

I knew how hard Harley tried to forget that part of her past. She even went as far as to fabricate the lie by saying it was her own choice to jump, and that her "Puddin' " jumped in after her before their lips met in a passionate kiss. Yet, these were only her delusions.

That was the story Harley told anyone who asked. She didn't have a clue that I knew the truth. I had discovered only a few short months after I met her.

She had been bruised and beaten again. She was far beyond her breaking point, but never did she do anything drastic until that one day.

 _Knock knock knock!_

 _By now Ivy knew it was Harley Quinn, one of the few people who ever visited Ivy anymore. She'd long since given up hope that once the door was opened, Harley wouldn't be covered head to toe in bruises, but still, every damn time Ivy hoped it would be true, it never was._

 _"Oh, Harls" Ivy rushed over to the poor girl._

 _You would've thought she'd fallen down three flights off stairs by the looks of it. Her costume was torn and frayed in various spots, while the visible parts of her body were battered black blue and purple._

 _Her ribcage had a huge purple spot leading to her midriff, where other bruises had settled. Harley's shoulders were bruised as well as her arms and legs. Her lip was busted open, and a new tattoo was added to her shoulder. Property of Joker was written around a skull wearing a jester's hat._

 _Ivy bent down. "What the hell is this Harls?!" Ivy couldn't believe how Harley could want a tattoo that marks her as property to anyone, let alone anyone as sinister as the Joker._

 _Harley didn't answer for a while. She simply didn't have the words._

 _"He said letting him do this to me wasn't enough anymore. So I got this tattoo. To remind him that I'm his."_

 _"Why the hell would you-"_

 _"Because I love him," Harley had stated._

 _Neither one of the girls were sure that was true anymore. Harley was afraid of him, and she didn't think there was any way out of the mess that was her life. She didn't know that she could come to Ivy any time that she needed, instead of only when he beat Harley._

 _"He sure as hell doesn't love you, Harls. So why do you go back to him? Every god damn time you go back to him!" Ivy was beyond angry._

 _"You wouldn't understand. You've never been in love."_

 _"You're right Harley. I could never honestly truly understand why you'd want to go back to a twisted conniving man who beats you for no good reason at all! I've been in love once. And it ended horribly. I'm lucky to be alive. Hell, the reason I'm still alive is that I had enough sense to take a step back and look at my life. But you and the Joker? Your love for each other is toxic! Why can't you see that!" Ivy didn't mean to shout, but the Joker had taken it too far this time._

 _Harley sighed and turned away, not wanting to cry in front of Ivy. It was hard being in a one-sided relationship, but Harley didn't want to admit it to herself. She knew if she stayed strong, and if she kept on trying, there would be a day where Harley got to see the true side of Joker. The hidden side than had locked itself away after Batman pushed him into the chemicals._

 _"Harls, please don't cry." Ivy reached out for Harley's shoulder._

 _"It's too late for that." Harley flinched under the delicate touch of Ivy's hand._

 _"Harley. Do you not see what the Joker is doing to you."_

 _"He knows I can take it."_

 _"If he knows you can take it, why hasn't he apologized. He hasn't even said sorry once. He's pushed you out of skyscrapers and helicopters, he's manipulated you from the beginning. He's a no good psychotic malevolent violent cruel horrendous-"_

 _"Angel. . . my_ _puddin's an angel, and you're not gonna_ _tell me otherwise" Harley couldn't stop the words from pouring out of her mouth._

 _"You call a person who beats you for no reason an angel?"_

 _"There is a reason. I'm just not good enough for him. Sometimes I forget to laugh at his jokes, sometimes I interrupt him while he's working, sometimes I'm an idiot, and the fact that I can't tell whether he's in a bad mood or not is reason enough. I should be able to know when my Puddin's mad or not, but the smile always throws me off." Harley's tears fell faster._

 _"Harley, you-"_

 _"I don't need your advice if all yer gonna do is reprimand me. I'm outta here."_

 _Harley ran out of the living room back into the pouring rain. She needed to forget the pain the present has bestowed upon her, but every time she looked to the future, all she saw was horror and fright, and when she looked towards her long-gone past, she couldn't help but feel sorrow and regret._

 _After ten minutes of walking through Arkham city, she walked into a place she hadn't visited before. Ivy's comfort and support were usually enough to keep her away from this place, that and the fear of making careless mistakes and earning more beatings from the Joker._

 _Harley opened the door and sniffed the crisp alcoholic air._

 _"Well well well, Harley Quinn. I expected ya here sooner. Domestic abuse and alcohol go hand in hand one way or another" The bartender's grainy voice bellowed._

 _Harley sighed. She had no idea her situation was that obvious._

 _"What'll it be?" He asked above the cheers of everyone and the booming music._

 _Harley took a seat and laid her head down on the counter, blue eyes meeting the brown of the bartender's._

 _"The strongest thing ya got"_

 _. . ._

 _After a few hours, Ivy began worrying. Harley surely hadn't gone back to the Joker's lair, and it was too late to hitch a taxi to anywhere. There weren't that many places Harley could've gone either. She usually came back soon after their arguments with a new potted flower, a tub of ice cream, and tears dripping down her face, apologizing and telling Ivy that she was the only good thing in the messed up psychotic world she lived in._

 _Those were the moments Ivy lived for. Not because it offered her a chance to snarkily tell Harley she told her so, but because Harley would long for Ivy's freakishly warm embrace at two a.m. in the middle of the movie they were currently watching, and Ivy would tighten her arms around the poor girl, mindful of her bruises, and they'd stay that way, falling asleep in each other's arms._

 _Ivy wished they could stay that way forever, but she always woke up alone, as Harley awoke in the middle of the night to sneak off to the Joker, time and time again. The worst part was how light of a sleeper Ivy was. Every night she'd wake to the movement of Harley trying to slip out of her grasp ever so quietly, as to not wake her up. Little did Harley know, Ivy woke up every night, listening to her parting words._

 _"I'm sorry, Red. If only I could live without my Mr. J. I'll probably be back sometime later in the week." Harley had once said, thinking Ivy was asleep._

 _Ivy wanted so badly to stop Harley every time she left, but no amount of persuasion could stop Harley from returning to the "Killer Clown" as Ivy called him, it would only shortly prolong the process, so every night she'd pretend to sleep as Harley ran back to the Joker._

 _Ivy didn't want to think about those lonely nights, she didn't want to be alone at all. So when Harley was yet to return, Ivy grabbed her things and started searching for the helpless girl._

 _After a thorough search of Arkham city, Ivy thought Harley was nowhere to be found. It was one a.m., maybe she did go back to the Joker after all. Ivy accepted defeat as she turned around to head back to her greenhouse, that is until she saw Harley through the bar's glass window._

 _Ivy burst inside and ran past the crowd straight to the girl. There were thirteen shot glasses beside her._

 _"Harley?" Ivy questioned._

 _"Oh-hiccup-hiya Red. It's about time you found me. What took you so-hic-long?" Harley slurred her words, which came out jumbled and incoherent._

 _"We need to get you out of here."_

 _Harley stared at Ivy, expecting something to happen. Ivy grabbed Harley's hand and pulled her up, to which she stumbled and fell to the ground. She mumbled something in frustration, inaudible against the blasting music._

 _Ivy didn't have time for this. She didn't want to spend any more time here that she needed to. It was obvious she wouldn't be walking anytime soon. Ivy took the helpless girl and carried her in her arms, out of the bar and down the dark Arkham sidewalk._

 _Ivy walked in silence, other than the occasional hiccup or two from the blonde._

 _"Why'd ya do this Harls?" Ivy asked._

 _"Because I'm fucking sick of life." She said in a nonchalant tone._

 _Geez, that was harsh. Harley was never the one to curse or hate life. She was always so energetic and eccentric and innocent._

 _Harley put her arms around Ivy's neck as she cried into her shoulder._

 _"Have you ever loved someone you knew was wrong for you? Someone who hurt you over and over again but you could forgive them every time because losing them would hurt even more."_

 _Yes. Ivy has loved someone like that. She learned from her mistakes, but not quickly enough. Not before the syringes and pills were administered. Not before the long nights of sleeplessness and even longer days of torment. Ivy sighed, as she turned her attention to Harley._

 _"That's what's happenin' to me and Mistah J. The first time I forgave him was after he pushed me into those chemicals. I don't see why they didn't add railings after Mistah J. was spawned because-"_

 _"Wait, he pushed you? You said you jumped into it." Ivy stated._

 _"Yeh, well, I guess I told the story I wanted to be true. I never asked for my life to be taken away from me." Harley began to cry even harder._

 _"Do you ever miss it, being normal?" Ivy asked._

 _"Sometimes, on really sad days. But then I think about the good things that happened, like meeting you, then I cheer up" Harley explained, genuinely laughing through her tears as her whole demeanor drastically changed._

 _Poison Ivy thought for sure that her ears were deceiving her, but no, what she heard was in fact, real._

 _Harley's smile faltered as a tear escaped her eye. Ivy wiped away the tear, staring into Harley's eyes. Those baby blue orbs of hope were shining with tears waiting to fall._

 _"I'm tired of crying, Red."_

 _"I know you are Harley, but you'll forget tonight as easily as you'll crawl back to the Joker."_

 _"How do you know? You don't seem like the alcoholic type."_

 _"Sadly, I was. That's a part of my past I'm trying to forget."_

 _"Maybe. . . we could forget together."_

 _"What do you mean by that?"_

 _"I don't know anymore"_

 _Harley was so broken. So vulnerable. Ivy always knew she was. The shattered world she was trapped in revealed itself to Ivy more and more each time Harley ran back to Ivy after Joker beat her, but this, this was full, and whole, and all at once. Ivy could feel the sorrow emanating from Harley._

 _Maybe it was the moment, or the time, or the atmosphere, something made Ivy realize that Harley wasn't going to ever change because she needed someone to help her. Harley needed someone to mend her broken pieces back together._

 _Ivy looked into her eyes, Harley's big, beautiful blue eyes; and she stared back at Ivy, with the same loving warmth as her. Ivy couldn't look away. She needed to look away because she couldn't stare into Harley's eyes without wanting to kiss her, but Ivy's eyes stood still._ _Harley smiled._

 _"You're too innocent for this world," Ivy whispered to Harley. "Never change."_

 _Ivy continued walking, with Harley still in her arms. After a while, Harley's breathing steadied, and the soft sound of snoring arose._

 _Ivy glanced down towards the sleeping girl in her arms. A busted lip, scratches, and bruises all over could never change the way Ivy saw Harley. She was Ivy's cute little psycho._

. . .

 _Ivy arrived at her hideout and set Harley on the bed. She changed the girl into pajamas and headed for the door to leave the room._

 _"Puddin', don't leave me." Harley slurred her words, still drunk after her nap in Ivy's arms._

 _"You'll be fine, Harley. And I'm not the Joker, I'm Poison Ivy," she stated through gritted teeth._

 _"Red? That's you. Don't leave me. I need you." Harley whimpered._

 _"You don't need me like you need the Joker." Ivy bitterly spat out knowing even if Harley did love her that she'd always be second place to Joker._

 _"Yeah, I do. Why do you think I come to you every time he beats me?" Harley asked._

 _"So I could put you back together to prepare you for your next beating."_

 _"It's not like that, I promise," Harley explained._

 _"Harley, you're drunk. You have no idea what you're saying." anger raged inside Ivy with every beat of her heart._

 _"Ow! Red, stop, please." Harley pleaded._

 _In her anger, Ivy didn't even notice the vines wrapping themselves around Harley._

 _"It doesn't matter! You won't remember! You never remember." Hot tears ran down Ivy's face as the vines wrapped tighter around Harley._

 _Maybe it was the helpless look in Harley's eyes, maybe it was the thought that Ivy was hurting Harley just as the Joker would, or maybe it was both of those reasons which forced Ivy to release Harley from the vines._

 _Harley took a gasp of air. "Thank you."_

 _Harley had said it in such a way, such an indescribable way, it left Ivy speechless. How could she thank the very person who just tried to kill her? Knowing they harbor a feeling as vengeful as murder is a sign to run away and never look back, not to thank them and shove the past away._

 _That's when the final puzzle piece snapped into place. She thanked Ivy for not killing her, but she also thanked the Joker, the same person who beats her for batting an eye, for not killing her. She expects it. Harley expects her life to be taken away at any moment. She was beaten to believe she doesn't deserve a life because she already gave it away the moment she met the Joker._

 _A wave of guilt washed over Ivy as she stared at the drunken helpless girl._

 _"You shouldn't expect me to kill you. You shouldn't expect anyone to kill you because you deserve to live, Harley. I'm sorry." Ivy walked over to the girl and embraced her in_ _a warm hug._

. . .

 _"I promised myself I wouldn't go back to him... I promised myself I wouldn't leave you." Harley whispered._

 _Ivy glanced at the clock without letting Harley know she was awake. It was four twenty-one._

 _Harley rested her head on Ivy's chest like an infant koala. "I'm sorry Pammy" It was no more than a whisper._

 _Ivy strained to hear Harley's whispers. Silence started to grow, then a snore escaped Harley's mouth._

 _"I'm so so sorry." She stated again._

 _Was she... sleep-talking?_

 _"Sorry for what, Harl?" Ivy questioned._

 _"F-for coming to you every time he beats me," Harley whispered._

 _Ivy gazed down towards Harley's eyes, still closed. Harley must've heard Ivy speaking in her dream._

 _"I know it h_ _-hurts you a lot." A tear fell from Harley's closed eye._

 _Even in her dreams, she cried persistently._

 _"Don't cry. Just stay asleep Harl."_


End file.
